


When I Hurt

by Lagerstatte



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lagerstatte/pseuds/Lagerstatte
Summary: There's magic cast on Noctis and Ignis: it takes Noctis' pain and gives it to Ignis. Noctis hadn't known, and even now he does there's nothing he can do about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [egelantier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/egelantier/gifts).



> With love!
> 
> Thank you Gooseberry for helping to beta <3

The first thing Noctis felt, to his shame, was that he’d been cheated. He’d thought he’d been getting stronger. He’d thought he’d been healing. He’d thought he’d been getting better.

He hadn’t.

Then he felt the full impact of the knowledge. Every moment of carelessness in training, every evening he hadn’t bothered to do his stretch routine and paid for it the next morning. Every hangover he’d got because he’d boasted he never got hungover. Every pain, every injury. All of what he’d suffered Ignis had also suffered. Because of him. For him.

Noctis knew Ignis hated being informal in his dad’s office. More casual settings were better, but the office was a place of professionalism, Ignis had always said. Noctis really, really didn’t fucking care.

‘It that right?’ he demanded, turning to Ignis, only barely holding himself back from grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, because how was Ignis that stupid? Why the fuck would he agree to doing something as — as — stupid, self-destructive. Something he knew Noctis would despise _._ And he only didn’t shake Ignis because he knew Ignis was hurting, and hurting a lot.

‘In the beginning the percentage of your discomfort was less,’ Ignis said, like that made it any better. Like he wasn’t fucking standing stiff and awkward because his back had to be killing him. Because Noctis had been an idiot in training, so his back was killing _him,_ and it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. ‘I knew the entirety of what it entailed before I agreed. And I did agree, Noctis. In no way was I forced into this.’

‘That’s not — that doesn’t make it better!’ Noctis hated the way his voice came out. He hated the way he knew beyond any doubt that he was right, and yet he was the one having to defend himself like his dad and Ignis weren’t wrong, wrong, _wrong_. They were wrong and he was right and the fact that he already knew he’d never be able to convince them of that made him inarticulate with rage. ‘And you didn’t even tell me? You just — you put magic on me and you didn’t even tell me! How’s that fine? What the actual fuck, Ignis? You can’t do that!’

Ignis’ face was pinched, uncomfortable not just from Noctis’s pain. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, which wasn’t the obvious answer of _we could, and we did._

‘And why are you even here?’ Noctis shouted, because he’d got started and now he couldn’t stop himself. He felt out of control, spiralling wildly, and he despised that feeling, because Ignis clearly wasn’t in control either. ‘You should be in bed. Why the fuck are they making you work when you’re in that much pain?’

‘I hardly think it’s sufficient to put me in bed rest,’ Ignis said, in the sort of voice he had when he was trying to calm Noctis down and stop him making a scene, which wouldn’t work this time. Not when Noctis knew he’d been lied to, had magic put on him. Magic that took his pain and gave it to Ignis. His dad had put magic on him that specifically, deliberately hurt Ignis, and made him an accomplice in it.

‘Bullshit. He—’ Noctis jabbed a finger at his dad, and Ignis winced at the gesture— ‘just told me you take most of my pain. Most. I know I’m feeling like shit so I dunno if you think I’m a fucking idiot that you can try and tell me you’re not feeling worse.’

‘Noctis.’ His dad interrupted him, putting his hand on his desk to rap it with his knuckles. ‘Enough. We did what we had to in order to let you progress in your studies. You weren’t told at the time because we knew it would only distract you. In fact I’m sorry you found out now—’ and he glanced at Ignis, which only made Noctis more and more furious, because how fucking dare he act like Ignis was at fault in any way in this? ‘But regardless, what’s done is done. I will not remove the magic. Ignis can, if he so chooses, but Noctis.’ His dad stopped and paused for effect. It made Noctis want to punch something. ‘You will not pressure him into removing the magic for your sake. You will allow him to make that choice by himself, and if I hear that you have been trying to influence him, I will take away his ability to remove it. He will have to come to me to request it, and I will decide whether it’s truly his decision or not before I do so. Do you understand?’

‘ _Yes,_ ’ Noctis said, because he did, and he turned and left, because being in the same room as him was more than he could bear. He wanted to — wanted to — he wanted to tear the magic apart with his hands, and shout, and stamp, and shake Ignis and tell him he was stupid and this was stupid and Ignis needed to stop it right fucking then and there. That he was worth more. That he shouldn’t ever feel any pain, not even his own.

Ignis followed him, catching up with a jog after presumably waiting to be dismissed. Jogging must really fucking hurt, because even just walking hurt, and apparently Ignis had most of their shared pain. So even when all he wanted was to get away, remove himself from the Citadel and his dad’s overt, overriding presence, making Ignis drive him home would be… he couldn’t do that. So he went to his old rooms instead and flopped down on the bed. His back appreciated it for a few seconds before starting to throb again, pain building on itself even worse than usual. Ignis sighed and sat down, then lay down, beside him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘If not for doing it, then for lying to you about it.’

‘Wow,’ Noctis said. ‘Great. Thanks, Specs, that makes me feel so much better.’

‘You know how much I’d do for you. Seeing you be able to live so much more freely has made it more than worth it.’

‘That doesn’t make it okay. You’re not meant to just… suffer like that for me. How’d you like it if I took on my dad’s pain or whatever? Just because he needs to function or whatever bullshit doesn’t mean someone else should be in pain more.’

Ignis didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, but Noctis figured he knew Ignis’ argument: he and his dad were _special._ And Ignis wasn’t. Who cared if a nobody like Ignis was in pain?

‘Fuck. Fuck.’ Noctis buried his head in the sheets, pulling them up to bunch around his face. He really had thought he’d been getting better, healing, progressing. Instead Ignis had just took more and more of his hurt onto himself. ‘I just. What the fuck? And now every time I’m in pain I’m just going to think about how you’re feeling worse? When it was my fault to begin with?’

‘You being in pain is never your fault,’ Ignis said fiercely.

Noctis interrupted him. ‘Oh yeah? What about the time training last week when Gladio told me to stop fucking around and I ignored him and had to take a potion because he accidentally broke both my arms? Or when Prompto had that paintball gun and I warped up to surprise him and he shot me in the face?’

Ignis had the fucking gall to laugh at that. ‘I admit when you told me, I was not best pleased.’

‘How about not being pleased you get hurt at all?’

Ignis sighed, and the sound was ruined by the way his breath hitched, and the hitch correlated exactly to when Noctis’ back twinged particularly bad. ‘It’s just—’ Noctis said, ‘unfair. It’s unfair and I hate it. I hate that you get hurt for me. This is just… fuck.’ He was crying, and that sucked as well because it wasn’t just humiliating, it made his chest heave which made his back hurt even worse. Their backs. ‘I’m sorry, Specs.’

‘You shouldn’t be,’ Ignis said, but when he’d normally be bustling around making tea or setting the bath to fill, he was lying there, just like Noctis was. Because he was in pain, just like Noctis was, and this time it was too much to ignore.

The bath. Having a bath usually helped, if only a little. And if it helped him it would help Ignis.

When he got up he made an effort to be careful, but he still couldn’t not see Ignis’ face pinch with discomfort. He was breathing carefully, deeply. A bath, then. And while he knew it wasn’t like Ignis being in the bath would help him, he still wanted him in there with him.

Noctis turned the bath on to fill in the kitchen, so he could get Ignis an ebony out of the fridge and take a couple of painkillers himself. The fridge was empty of fresh food, but he could order something up from the kitchens. Or hopefully, after the bath, he’d be well enough that Ignis was well enough they could go home.

‘I’m gonna have a bath,’ he said, even though Ignis had to have heard the water start. ‘It helps. Join me?’

It felt selfish to ask anything of Ignis. It always did, but now especially. Noctis could feel himself start to wallow in it, sinking down into the mire of his own self-hatred, and made an effort to not. He needed to be functional for Ignis’ sake. Ignis deserved that.

‘That would be lovely,’ Ignis said, and pushed himself into sitting. He smiled, but it only highlighted how uncomfortable he looked, all hunched up, fingers still twisted in the sheets. His eyes didn’t crinkle up like they usually did when he smiled.

It was probably counterproductive to have Noctis do everything, Noctis thought. After all, Ignis doing whatever wouldn’t make him feel worse — probably? Would it? — while fussing about getting clean clothes and towels was definitely aggravating Noctis’ back, which was hurting Ignis. But he wanted to, and he wanted to be hurting himself, and he wanted Ignis to take it all back and stop the magic. The pain dragged at him as he walked, moved, stood still. He poured salts into the bath, and stopped to brace himself against the rim as his back tightened up for a moment, like long, pointy fingers were digging into the muscle and trying to yank it right out of his back.

And in the bedroom Ignis was in even more pain, and not even for a good reason.

While the bath was filling he went to get Ignis. ‘C’mon,’ he said, and Ignis let him pull him up by the hand and undress him, shedding clothes onto the bedroom floor. He didn’t say anything even though he normally would have, just let Noctis move his body this way and that. Noctis guessed Ignis was doing it purely for his sake, and stupid appreciation warred with irritation and the urge to push, push and push and push until he got a reaction. Ignis shouldn’t be doing anything for Noctis’ benefit. He should be the one Noctis was bending over backwards for.

In the washroom Ignis let Noct push him down onto the stool, grab the showerhead, and wash him. Ignis’ body looked pristine; he must have taken a potion after his last training, because he didn’t even have a bruise on him. And yet there he was, tight and awkward with pain, breathing through his mouth in low, careful breaths.

He was taking on most of Noctis’ pain. Noctis was in pretty fucking bad pain — not enough to put him in bed with the painkillers administered by a doctor, but not that far off either. So how bad would it have been if there hadn’t been any magic? More than twice as bad.

That was pretty bad.

He didn’t want to think about. Didn’t want to consider that he needed it. That he needed Ignis to be in pain just so he could function at all. That maybe if it really, actually came down to it, he wouldn’t have Ignis remove the magic after all.

After being scrubbed Ignis didn’t let Noctis push him towards the bath, but gently maneuvered them around so it was Noctis sitting on the stool. They really needed another stool, Noctis thought as Ignis lathered shampoo in his hands, kneeling on the cold tiles behind him. It was nice, though. And Ignis’ hands on his back were soothing.

He didn’t need to think about how Ignis was getting intimate feedback on when it hurt to be touched.

Eventually Ignis’ hands faltered once too many; the tremble of them was obvious through the spray of water from the showerhead. Noctis grabbed the showerhead, rinsed the last of the soap suds off, and pulled them both up and towards the bath.

Pain was exhausting. The hot water hurt, but it’d feel better later.

‘Hey. I just...’ Ignis glanced up, and from the sight of him Noctis knew they’d have to spend the night in the Citadel. He didn't want to, but it'd suck too much to drive back home. Even if someone else did the driving. He put his head against Ignis’ shoulder and Ignis pulled him closer. ‘You know,’ Noct said. ‘Thank you.’


	2. Chapter 2

When Noctis’ dad had died, Ignis had told Noctis that he couldn’t take the magic off, now. Not without Regis. Noctis had swallowed that with the rest of his grief and anger, but hadn’t ever questioned it. He’d tried to avoid injury as much as possible. He’d told Gladio and Prompto. There wasn’t much else he could do.

When Noctis had died — should have died — his body only took on part of it, and it was enough for a single phoenix down to bring him back.

Ignis hadn’t seem too surprised, but Noctis had had no clue whether his dad had known that would happen, honestly. He sort of suspected he had. He still knew it’d been wrong of him to saddle Ignis, who’d only been a child back then, with someone else’s pain. It may have worked out for the better, but it’d still been wrong.

It wasn’t like they were at risk of too much pain now, at least. Noctis intended to keep it that way. He lay in their bed with his arm slung over Ignis’ waist, dozing. It was warm, sunny and bright outside but not too bright to stop him being able to really appreciate the lie-in. His foot was going to sleep because one of the cats was lying over his ankle, so he shoved her off, pushing his face against the back of Ignis’ neck as she meowed in protest.

He felt Ignis chuckle. ‘Cruel,’ Ignis said. ‘And they say you love animals.’

‘I love you more,’ Noctis said, just because he could. His fingers curled against the bare skin of Ignis’ chest.

He felt Ignis laugh more than heard it. Then Ignis rolled over onto his back.

‘Noct,’ he said, and the serious note to his tone made Noctis sit up to look at him properly: the almond shape of his milky blind eye, the pale hairs of his remaining eyebrow, the bump in the line of his nose.

‘Yeah?’

‘You know that I never wanted to remove the magic,’ he said, and he didn’t need to explain what magic he was talking about. ‘But I understand that you felt differently.’

‘Well, yeah,’ Noctis said.

Ignis reached out carefully, and Noctis guided his hand to his face. Ignis’ fingertips traced over the ridge of his eyebrows, down one side of his nose, to his lips.

‘I’m sorry for having lied,’ he said. ‘But… Noct. Thank you.’

Something snapped, like a paper thread, that wouldn’t even have been noticeable except for that Noctis had been alert to it. Pain twinged in his hip and his shoulder, the arm pushed under Ignis’ neck so they could lie close together.

‘Shit,’ Noctis said, then laughed and rolled so that he lay on top of Ignis. ‘ _Shit_.’

The betrayal of it hurt more than the added aches and pains of his body. The fact that Ignis had lied to him this entire time — that he hadn’t even been able to tell the truth after the dawn had broke, when they’d become safe. When they’d been prepared to settle down, and they’d talked about what they’d wanted, their mundane hopes and dreams, honesty handed freely between them. Ignis had lied to him every day, every time he’d stubbed a toe or pulled a muscle or slept wrong and woke with a cricked neck.

This hurt, that was not surprising, settled in his heart and lungs, and even if the magic were still in effect, would not have eased it.

‘Noct?’

He would have liked to see Ignis’ face, but he always closed his eyes when they kissed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, pulling apart just so he could say it. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry it even had to be a thing to break. But also, yeah. You too.’ They kissed again, and Noctis pulled back a second time, and his hip was still hurting. They were close enough he didn’t need to open his eyes to tell they were both smiling. 'Thank you.'


End file.
